


The Alchemist of Time

by Evergreena



Series: Alchemist of Time [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jagers, Set before the Briggs arc, Spark!Ed, Tarvek needs a hug, The Other Wins, Time Travel, dark future, kid Gil and Tarvek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27971120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evergreena/pseuds/Evergreena
Summary: Edward Elric never thought he'd be confronted with a science madder than alchemy, but when Al disappears before his very eyes, he finds himself whisked away to a frightening world on the brink of destruction. He meets a desperate Spark who sees him as one last chance to fix the past and stop the ruthless Other from taking everything that matters.The only problem with that plan? Ed's not about to play minion.
Relationships: Agatha Heterodyne & Tarvek Sturmvoraus, Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Tarvek Sturmvoraus & Gilgamesh "Gil" Wulfenbach
Series: Alchemist of Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048657
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	The Alchemist of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hokay, here we go! This was NOT planned, it just popped into my head in the middle of the night and pestered me until I wrote it out.
> 
> Not that it really matters, but on the FMA side, this starts right before the Briggs arc.
> 
> On the GG side... Well, let's just say it's one "possible future" heh heh heh...

Alphonse disappeared first. Ed should have tried to go find someone to help then and there, but something was odd about the whole thing. It wasn’t normal alchemy. He’d been right there, and then… the ground shook beneath them in the snowfield in front of Fort Briggs. A blue energy field appeared around Al before the snow had even settled. And then he just wasn’t there.

“Al!” Ed screamed until his voice went hoarse. He was so far away from anyone who could help them. Mustang, the team, even Fort Briggs was still too far to hope for anyone to hear him… He should march right back to civilization to report this, but he was reluctant to leave the place he’d last seen his little brother.

He searched the snow thoroughly for indications of alchemy. Nothing. Just a slightly melted circle around where Al had stood, and two hollow footprints in the center. He entered the circle cautiously, put his smaller boots into those huge footprints left by the armor.

He clapped his hands together, but didn’t do any alchemy, it was just a comforting motion. He had no idea what to do.

Before he could make up his mind, the circle crackled with blue light again. He yelped and lifted up his feet. This time, the ground just vanished. A blue swirling portal opened beneath him, and he fell through.

He hit the ground hard, his flesh leg buckling under the impact. He flopped onto his knees into… mud?

Where had the snowfield gone?

He looked around and felt his stomach drop. This wasn’t Briggs. This didn’t even look like _Amestris_.

The sky was scattered with several black airships, vehicles he’d read theories about in the central library but had never seen like this. They flashed spotlights all across the terrain, which Ed realized was actually a battlefield. Evidence of bombs and skirmishes between infantry abounded. A walled city broke the horizon ahead, with a strange castle silhouetted above it, engulfed in flames. He gaped. Whatever this place was, it had been completely torn apart by years of war.

The ground rumbled suddenly. He whirled around to find a massive metal tank bearing down on him at full speed. He clapped his hands together and pressed on the ground, forming a huge earthen hand to lift him out of the way in case the driver didn’t see him.

The tank _didn’t stop._ He yelled, hoping that whoever was at the controls would hear him and slow down. It continued just as it had before, as if… as if nobody was actually controlling it. It crashed into the column of the earthen hand, shaking him violently off his perch. He fell onto his automail shoulder and something _snapped_. He cried out as the pain stabbed him suddenly and only continued. Something was definitely broken inside his automail. Not good.

The tank—now even more dented than before—rumbled on, leaving him grabbing at tufts of grass as he tried to stay conscious. There could be more unmanned tanks on the loose. He had to get out of this place to somewhere, well, safe. And Al! He had to find Al.

He forced himself up to shaky legs, gripping the shoulder joint of his broken automail arm. He could flex the fingers, but only barely. He needed maintenance.

He clambered up onto a low rise of earth and looked out over the field. He froze, and his heart sank even further. This looked _really_ bad.

The field was strewn with downed airships, smoking from their skeletal frames. Bodies littered the ground, some of which looked distinctly _nonhuman_. He shuddered. Among the ruins of war he also spotted strange mechanical vehicles walking around on multiple metal legs. What country had he landed in? He rubbed his head, fearing that he’d gotten some sort of weird concussion, but aside from a few scrapes, his cranium seemed unhurt.

At least his alchemy seemed to work okay here. He clapped his hands and formed a metal polearm out of the ground. If he’d landed in a war, he needed to have some way to defend himself. Who knew what sort of monsters and men he’d find in a place like this?

Mountains surrounded the walled city on all sides, except for a high mountain pass which looked to be crawling with tanks and more of those metal walking-vehicles. After some deliberation, he realized that the only place he could go was toward the burning city. He leaned on the staff of his weapon and hobbled toward it, dreading what he’d find once he got there.

* * *

“Should ve report diz?”

Two toothy observers watched the golden-haired kid walk slowly across the battlefield and head for the burning city. One of the two had pinkish skin and a massive underbite, and the other had green-blue skin and what looked like cat ears. They both wore impressive hats.

“Nah, Hyu tink de schmot guy vould care about a puny keed?”

Then the object of their discussion clapped his hands and somehow pulled a weapon out of the ground in a haze of blue sparks.

They exchanged a glance.

“Dibs on de report!”

“Vait, Hy saw him virst!”

They bickered as they ran back to their hidden base in the underground caves. They passed others like them, licking wounds and sulking at all their recent defeats. No one hindered them all the way up until they reached the center of camp, where their leaders were frantically trying to make a plan of escape.

There was no saving the city anymore. There was nothing left to save. Der Kestle was a burning shell, the people of the city were dead or captured or wasped, and the defenses were completely spent. Even the river had stopped flowing.

They were admitted into the General’s chamber.

Inside, more of their kind circled a makeshift table with a map of the caves on it. Two figures bent over it, one was their last remaining General, and the other one was cloaked all in black, hood obscuring his face as it always did these days.

“General Dimo! Schmot Guy!” they chorused as they burst in. “Ve gots news!”

The hooded man didn’t look up, but the General did. His green, stubbly face relaxed when he recognized them. “Kore, Lupa, hyu iz alive!” He extended his arms—one of which was a mechanical prosthetic. He blinked his glowing yellow eyes at them. “Hyu haz a report?”

“A keed, beck on de field,” Kore said, gesturing back at the door. “Yellow hair—“

Lupa elbowed his comrade aside. “Dey don’t kerr about de hair! His hends, dey do de lightnink schtuff, den he iz holdink a veapon!”

The General blinked in surprise. “Lightnink schtuff?”

The hooded man turned at that, his tired and bloodshot eyes glinting behind his glasses. “ ** _Show me_**.”

* * *

The trip across the field had taken more out of him than he’d expected. Maybe it had something to do with the portal he’d fallen into. Or the way he’d sprained his ankle when he landed. Or maybe his broken automail was sapping his strength faster than normal. Whatever the reason, Ed felt half-dead on his feet by the time he reached the wall of the city he’d seen from afar. Up close, the dark walls seemed more oppressive, and despite the obvious damage from siege and assault, they seemed relatively intact. That is, except for the gaping hole he found, half-blocked with rubble… and bodies.

He pulled up the hood of his red coat, wishing he had a scarf to block the stench of decay. Why did no one move these corpses? There was no obvious battle going on at the moment. Where were all the people? Surely, there had to be some survivors.

He cautiously crept over the rubble, giving any bodies a wide berth.

Part of him wondered distantly if this was what the Colonel and Hawkeye had experienced in Ishval. He could see how a war that led to destruction like this would turn anyone into an uptight bastard like Mustang. Heck, it was probably affecting _him_ right now. He’d just managed to turn off part of his brain and look at the here and now, the logical side of things.

He’d deal with nightmares later, no doubt. Hopefully with Al around at that point, though. If he had Al, nothing else mattered.

He stifled a cough at the dust and smoke that filled the air inside the walls. Even with the destroyed buildings and torn up streets, he could tell that this had once been a very nice town. A broken statue sat in what had once been a cobblestone square. The streets rose up in stages behind it, all the way to the strange smoking castle, which seemed to have some parts tipped over on its side.

What set his nerves on edge the most, however, was how eerily silent it was. He didn’t see so much as a mouse running around the debris. Had the entire place been poisoned? Perhaps he shouldn’t be hanging around—

Something made a tiny noise behind him, and he whirled around, his spear at the ready.

A pair of strangely colored creatures leaped out of the smoke at him, baring sharpened teeth. He stumbled back in surprise, but held his spear firmly.

They moved with inhuman power and speed, coiled like cats before pouncing on prey. They had an almost hungry look in their eyes, too.

They wore clothing and hats, which puzzled him. Were they somehow intelligent? Some kind of advanced chimera?

He kept his grip on the weapon, but met their gazes boldly. “Back off,” he warned.

They seemed surprised to hear him speak. “Ve don’t vant to hurt hyu,” said the blue-green one in a strange but understandable accent.

“Are you chimera?” he asked. “Who do you answer to?”

“Ve serve nobody now,” the pink one said sadly. “De mistress iz gone. All de old Generals iz gone. Even de Baron iz gone. Now ve iz all vild Jägers, ho yez.”

The other one smacked his companion. “Schot op, hyu iz sayink too much.”

Ed turned their strange speech over in his mind. Wild Jägers? He’d never heard of a chimera like this before. How many of them were there, anyway? “If you’re not here to hurt me,” he said slowly. “Then why did you come at me like that?”

The pink one inspected his claw-like fingernails. “Ve iz de dishtraction.”

Ed processed that a moment too late. Something whizzed at him from behind and stabbed into his back. He whirled again and spotted a black-cloaked figure crouched behind a broken wall. Feeling behind him, he found the hilt of a tiny throwing knife protruding from his shoulder blade.

He suddenly felt dizzy. No! There had to be some kind of drug in whatever hit him. He couldn’t hope to escape in this state. He dropped his weapon and fell to his knees. He had to think fast, buy some time. If it was just a knockout drug, he needed to get to safety. He hoped that was all it was. But he couldn’t run in this state. He clapped his hands awkwardly, since his automail still wasn’t functioning well, and slapped the ground.

A dome of earth rose up four feet thick and covered over his head, blocking out the strange chimeras and the dark-cloaked figure who’d drugged him with a thrown blade. With this temporary shelter in place, Ed collapsed, unconscious.

* * *

Ed woke up restrained on a slab. He winced at the pain the overhead light brought his eyes. This was turning into quite the nightmare, he thought wryly. He hoped that Al wasn’t here after all. His little brother didn’t need to deal with this kind of horror. He groaned, wishing he could muster up the strength to break free of his bindings. His automail shoulder still screamed with pain, though.

“Ah, you’re awake at last,” came a male voice. “I should apologize for the knockout poison. It was a mild one but it took me awhile to get you the antidote because we had to dig you out of that… dome.” This fellow didn’t have the same speech patterns as the monsters he’d encountered before.

He craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse into the dark area outside of the circle of light he was in. “Who are you? What do you want?” After a half-second, he shouted, “Where is my brother?”

A figure emerged out of the shadows, wearing a dark cloak and hood. “Your brother?” he asked. “You were first seen alone, on the battlefield. There was no one else within many leagues, I assure you.”

“Show yourself!” he shouted, knowing he was being irrational. He had to see the face of his enemy.

The man hesitated, then sighed. He lowered his hood, revealing bright red hair tied back into a messy ponytail. His face was pale, with dark purple circles under his eyes. Permanent worry lines creased his brow. Ed couldn’t tell how old he was—he moved like an old person, but his face, while pinched with lines, appeared fairly young. Small round glasses perched on his nose.

“Better?” he asked in a quieter tone. “I’ve asked the Jägers not to disturb us, so we can talk freely.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Freely, ha. Nice choice of words when _I’m_ the one tied to a slab. I guess crazy comes in all shapes and sizes.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then his captor spoke, this time with a slightly unhinged undertone to his voice that Ed didn’t like at all. “ _Your prosthetic, it must be Sparkwork. I can’t make sense of it without opening it up_.”

Ed flinched at that suggestion. “If you dare mess it up further, I’ll kill you,” he said.

The man sat heavily. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

He paused at that. “…Should I?”

“I’m only the most wanted fugitive in all of Europa,” the man said, flinging his arms wide. “You should know me by that, at least.”

Ed’s mind raced. Should he pretend to understand? He had never been great at the whole subterfuge thing. Sure, he could pull a fast one now and then, and his mind could make calculations about the probability of a certain plan working or not, but this was way beyond his expertise.

Before he could decide on an answer, the man leaned forward. “I see. Then let me introduce myself, and maybe you’ll consider doing the same? I’m Tarvek Sturmvoraus, formerly Prince of Sturmhalten, currently deposed Storm King and fugitive from the forces of the Other. Does that mean anything to you?” He watched Ed’s face carefully.

“Yeah, that’s a no,” Ed admitted. “Think I got mixed up in something weird that landed me in this country. Europa, you said? Do you know where Amestris is?”

Sturmvoraus’ eyes sharpened behind his glasses. “Never heard of it.”

“What about Creta? Drachma? Xing?”

“No.”

Ed let his head smack back against the slab. “Huh.”

“Listen kid,” Sturmvoraus said, slipping back into that weird unhinged tone again. “I think we can _help each other._ I can probably help you with that arm of yours. It looks like it’s some kind of a _mechanical-biological nerve interface,_ which I have some experience in. I think you might be able to help me out with something too.”

“Yeah? And what might that be?”

“I’ve devised a way to _fix things before they went wrong._ _The only problem is, I can’t send someone from here and now to set things in motion. If I tried to do it myself, **I would**_ _destroy the natural order of the universe and likely attract multi-dimensional monsters that would_ **_devour our whole timeline_**. ** _I need an outsider._** ”

Ed laughed sharply at the ridiculousness of it all. “Are you talking about _time travel?_ No alchemy I know can do something like that.”

Sturmvoraus cocked his head to the side. “Alchemy? No, I didn’t employ any principles…” He stopped. “Is that what you call that phenomenon you apparently instigated earlier? With the electrostatic discharge?”

“Look,” Ed said, grunting to help him focus through the constant pain in his shoulder. “Enough with the flowery language. Let’s talk straight. You want to try to fix my arm—and I’m not convinced you could even do it, let alone if I want you poking around in there. You want me to _time travel_ somehow and fix your messed-up world. I’m the right person to do this because… _what?_ Just because I’m not from around here? That doesn’t hold up. Or did you just need an expendable nobody to send on a suicide mission?”

Sturmvoraus flinched. Ah, so that was it. But then he stood up and leaned over the slab, his eyes darkening with some strong emotion. Ed had seen that look before, in the Colonel’s eyes. This was a man on a mission, a man who’d been to hell and back. He was dangerous because he had nothing else to lose and everything to gain. “You want to talk straight? All right. _There is no Amestris or any of the other places you mentioned. This world is one of mad science, Sparks, and lately, massive destruction by the enemy we call the Other. We Sparks can bend the laws of physics to an extent, but we normally can’t summon weapons out of the ground, as the Jägers claim they saw you do, and we can’t **make instant domes of earth over our heads by simply touching the ground.**_ _I’ve suspected since I first saw you that you’re from another universe. Right now that’s_ _exactly what I need_.”

Ed swallowed. There were undercurrents to the man’s voice that vibrated right down to his core. He’d never heard anything quite like it. But it did ring true. “Yeah, I’ve actually been thinking the same thing,” he admitted. “Whatever gate or portal that dropped me here must have pulled me out of my own universe and into this one.” Then he paused. “I can’t help you, though. I need to find my little brother and find some way to get back home.”

“I… may be able to help with that second part.” Sturmvoraus sounded thoughtful, calculating. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you _here and now._ ”

“Meaning?”

“With the proper tools, parts, and… friends helping me, I could probably build a reverse-portal engine that could send you back to your universe. I don’t have any of that anymore.” He ran his hand through his blood-red hair, making it stand up in a peculiar way. “Not in this time.” He turned his bruised eyes on Ed, then pulled a black case forward and patted it. “This is the device that will allow you to go back in our timeline. I used the last of our resources to build it, before our lab fell to the Other. I’m sorry, but all I can do is try to fix up your arm, if you’re able to talk me through the theory.”

Ed sighed. It looked like he had no choice for now. He had no intention of letting this stranger use an (impossible) time machine on him, but he did need help with his arm. “Fine. Just unstrap me, will you? And no, I won’t fight you as long as you don’t do anything _stupid_.”

* * *

Winry would love picking this man’s brain about his knowledge of mechanical joints and biological interfaces.

Right now, sweating through the pain of having his arm opened up by unfamiliar hands, it was all Ed could do to keep from strangling him from all the questions he was being plied with. “No, I’m telling you, the only power source is my body itself. There’s no power core.”

“Impressive.” Sturmvoraus poked at a broken wire with a small pair of prongs, causing Ed to flinch violently. “And this connection to the nerve port is masterful. Are you absolutely sure it isn’t Sparkwork?”

“I’m sure,” Ed gritted out, though he was starting to wonder now. “Tell me, what makes a Spark different from, say, a normal mechanic or scientist? When you said you could bend the laws of physics…”

“ _Hold on._ ” Sturmvoraus had turned away to grab something. Ed heard something like the clank of a hammer on metal, then a few scraping sounds, and a few moments later the man returned holding a device that Ed could have sworn had not been in the room earlier. “ _I need to solder these wires._ ” He dropped a pair of goggles over his eyes. Ed quickly turned his head.

A few painful zaps later, Ed found he could flex his automail hand again. A fix like that would have taken Winry at least an hour to get done. “Huh,” he said.

“The plating is all that’s left?”

Ed inspected the man’s work. He was able to move his shoulder and elbow joints just fine now. The repairs were tight and clean, and reminded him so much of Winry that he felt an ache in his chest. “Yeah. Let’s get this done.”

“ _Are you sure you don’t want any_ **_enhancements_**?” Sturmvoraus’ scary undertone was coming back.

Ed quickly shook his head. “Nah. I’d rather let my own mechanic handle those.”

Sturmvoraus managed to only look a little disappointed, and instead focused on reattaching the outer plates that protected the wiring inside. When he finished, he sat back in satisfaction. “It will have to do. How do you feel?”

Ed shot him a look, trying to discern if he was being sincere. There was something about this fugitive king that didn’t seem trustworthy, despite his help.

He got to his feet and tested his range of motion with a few punches. “Fine, I guess,” he said slowly. He reached for his red coat and slipped it on. “But I really must be going now. If you think it’s really possible for me to get home, I’ve got to try to find someone who can help.”

Sturmvoraus stood and held out a hand.

Ed reluctantly shook it. “I don’t know if our paths will cross again, but good luck, I guess.”

“I don’t really believe in luck, but if anyone needs it, it’s you.”

Ed frowned. That didn’t sound encouraging. “What do you mean?”

Sturmvoraus gave him a conflicted look and squeezed his hand tighter.

_Oh. Oh no._ Ed tried to wrench free. The man was stronger than he looked. Sturmvoraus’ other hand came around and smacked Ed’s already-sore head. He saw stars for a moment, and that was just enough time for the man to snap cuffs on him again.

Sturmvoraus hauled him back down to the slab and strapped him in. Then he picked up the black case and opened it.

“Let me go, you _bastard!_ ” Ed spat, straining against the bindings with more force than he had before. “I won’t be a test subject in your little _experiment! I didn’t get sent across time and space for that. I’ll end you!_ ”

The red-haired man hummed as he inspected a watch-sized dial. “ _Interesting._ Your voice is reaching the edge of harmonics that would indicate a developing Spark fugue. Breakthrough is likely in the coming days. Too bad I won’t be able to witness it. Although, on the other hand, perhaps I will.” He pulled something out of the black case. It was a spidery mess of leather straps and brass coils of wire. A large brass dial sat in the center of the mess.

“This,” Sturmvoraus said calmly. “Is my last hope. I’d appreciate it if you would take good care of it.” He strapped the device to Ed’s chest, right over his clothes. “If I calibrate it correctly, it will take you back to just before Agatha reached Sturmhalten. You can help me stop—”

Ed swore. “I won’t do anything for you! As soon as I get out of here, I never want to see you again!”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” The man actually had the nerve to look apologetic. “The device is tied to _my temporal essence_ , which means you’ll be seeing me _very soon indeed.”_ He tapped his chin. “ _Or rather, you will have seen me previously. In any case, I’m hoping you’ll arrive at the precise right time to give this little packet to **Agatha Clay Heterodyne**.”_ He slapped a sealed envelope on Ed’s stomach. Then he tucked it into his pocket for him. “ _Don’t tell her you’re from the future, and **don’t you dare tell her I sent you!”**_ His voice grew dark and menacing as he loomed over the slab.

Ed gulped and said nothing. What could he do? He couldn’t etch an array, he couldn’t clap his hands, he could hardly move at all. This man was desperate and had probably been planning this all along.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and something _boomed_ overhead.

The mad Spark froze, and all the blood drained from his face, making him even more pale than before. “ _Red fire,_ ” he said. “She found me.”

Outside the closed door of the underground lab, voices shouted, and what sounded like strange gunshots echoed even through the vents.

“Let me out of this!” Ed struggled with all his might. “I can fight!”

Sturmvoraus shook his head solemnly. “It’s too late for us. We’ve been on death’s door for months. The Other’s forces are just finally moving in for the killing blow.” His eyes blazed with fire. “The only way to help us now is to _stop this from even starting._ ” He flipped a switch on the device strapped to Ed, and the dial in the center began to glow an otherworldly blue. “ _Simply need to adjust for your weight and height…”_

The doors burst open, and strange metal machines with legs marched in, carrying weapons.

“ _No, not Artesian Deathclanks! **I need more time!** ”_ Sturmvoraus ducked next to the slab, still trying to fiddle with the dial on Ed’s chest. “ _It’s not ready! I need a few more minutes to calibrate! I need—”_

A strange green beam shot out from one of the weapons, right toward Ed. He closed his eyes and braced for the worst…

Someone wheezed with sudden pain. Ed’s eyes flew open in shock.

Sturmvoraus stood tall in front of him. Sweat coated his forehead. He stumbled, caught himself sloppily on the slab, and Ed realized he’d jumped in the way of the blast that had been headed right for him. He’d been shot. “ _Find Agatha,”_ the deposed Storm King gasped. He reached over Ed’s chest with shaking fingers and fumbled with the dial. “ _Don’t waste your time with me. Fix this. **Find** **her** …” _He blindly flipped one final switch and collapsed.

“Wait, what did you do?” Ed shouted. “Wake up and get me free, _I can get us out of here! Sturmvoraus!_ ”

The device on his chest began to heat up and whir. It glowed brighter and bluer than before.

The walking machines—the deathclanks, as Sturmvoraus had called them—now turned their attention and their weapons toward him. He could hear the whine as something powered up, their weapons began to glow green…

The device strapped to his chest pulsed with blinding blue-white light, accompanied by an ear-piercing whine. Ed screamed at the sound, unable to cover his ears.

The sound seemed to confuse the clanks, and they looked around, pointing their weapons into all the corners of the lab.

Greenish lightning arced out of the device and zapped into Ed’s metal arm and leg. Electricity jolted through him, and his jaw clenched automatically, forcing him to bite his tongue. _I’m sorry Al_ , he thought, and then everything blanked out.

* * *

“Who do you s'pose he is?”

“Maybe one of the Baron's experiments got loose.”

“He looks like he’s still a kid though! The Baron doesn’t do stuff like that to kids. What’s that thing strapped to his chest? I'm gonna touch it.”

“No! Can’t you see the smoke? Lab safety!”

“Psh, we're not in a lab.”

Ed's head throbbed, and he felt more dizzy than he'd ever felt before. He was glad he seemed to be lying on a floor. Two child-like voices bickered somewhere overhead. He wanted to open his eyes but his eyelids felt so heavy…

“Think we should call someone? He could be unstable.”

“Just look at him! He’s harmless. I think.”

Something poked his metal hand.

“Stop that! What if he wakes up?”

Ed groaned. “‘M already ‘wake.” His mouth seemed stiff, like he was still half paralyzed by sleep.

The kids whispered frantically to each other and retreated a few steps.

Ed forced his eyes open. The ceiling was made of ductwork and pipes. The floor he lay on was a metal grated platform. He could just barely make out two small figures in the shadows of the walkway. “Where’m I?” he asked.

They continued whispering harshly. Probably arguing about what to do with him.

He tried to sit up, and realized that the time device was still strapped to his chest, and the metal cuffs—while damaged—were still clasped on his wrists, though they weren’t attached to anything anymore. The chains appeared to have been sheared clean off. He held up his flesh arm to show them the manacle. “Don’t suppose you can help me?”

One of the kids stepped forward into a shaft of light from somewhere between the pipes above them. He had a head of wild brownish hair, and a mischievous face that somehow put Ed at ease. He knew exactly what sort of kid had a face like that. “Hiya,” the boy said in an almost friendly tone. “How d’we know you’re not a dangerous an’ evil experiment?”

Ed didn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes. “My name’s Ed.”

The kid laughed. “Good point.” He turned back to his companion, still in the shadows. “It’s a good point, isn’t it, Tarvek?”

Ed froze. Wait, wasn’t that the name of the—

Tarvek stepped out into the light with his companion. He stared wide eyed at Ed behind his massive and blocky glasses. He looked so young and frightened that Ed wouldn’t have even recognized him… if not for that swoop of red bangs.

“Tarvek Sturmvoraus,” Ed breathed. “ _You’re_ _the Storm King?_ ”

Both children froze. The brown-haired boy just looked confused, but Tarvek…

“He’s lost his mind,” Tarvek said, sounding frightened.

“Fine, we’ll call the Baron—“

“No!” Tarvek grabbed his companion’s arm. “No, wait Gil! We can deal with him. Let me think for a minute.”

Gil shrugged. “Fine, I just thought you said you wanted to.”

Ed pushed himself up to his feet—his legs were alarmingly wobbly—and leaned on the metal railing of the walkway. “All right, this is fine.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m not crazy.” He grabbed the smoking dial on his chest with his metal hand and _pulled_. It came off, dropping singed straps to the floor. He held it up to his face and inspected it closely for the first time. He hadn’t gotten a good look at it before, being strapped to a slab. _By the future version of one of these very boys._ He doubted that Sturmvoraus had meant to send him this far back in time.

_This is too weird,_ he thought. _Al, what have I gotten myself into?_

The device was thoroughly broken, he could see in an instant, but there was something about it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on that bothered the back of his mind. _Something about the exposed levers and the hint of gears behind them… If he could just take it apart to see how it worked, maybe he could repair it with his alchemy. Or maybe it was the key to **finding Al**._

_“Do you have any tools?”_ he found himself asking.

“Whoa, Tarvek, do you think he’s…?”

Tarvek sized him up. It was strange to be on the receiving side of that look. It was the look he normally gave Mustang whenever he was trying to determine what he was up to. “Yes, I think he’s on the edge of Breakthrough.”

Ed frowned. The trip through time must have messed with his head. He was finding it hard to think purely logically about this. He closed his eyes, took a calming breath, and then straightened. “Sorry, don’t know what came over me.” He still held the time dial, so he ripped off the last few straps and tucked the machine itself into his coat pocket. It barely fit. As he shoved it in, however, he felt something else. _That’s right! The letter!_

He pulled out the crumpled envelope that Old Sturmvoraus had given him. He eyed the name written on the front in fancy cursive. “Do you either of you know someone named _Agatha Clay Heterodyne?_ ”

The name landed on them like a ton of bricks. “Heterodyne?!” they both exclaimed.

Ed shrugged. “I’m just a messenger. Can you point me in the right direction?”

They exchanged a look.

“Is this someone’s idea of a joke?” Gil suggested.

“If it is, the delivery is lacking,” Tarvek said dryly.

Ed tugged on his braid in frustration. “Listen, I’ve traveled a _long way_. Can you help me or not?”

“Sorry,” Gil said. “The Heterodyne Boys have been missing for years. _Everyone_ knows that.”

“And we’d have to check for any records, but I’ve never heard of an Agatha Clay,” Tarvek added, sounding reluctant to provide any information.

Well, the feeling there was mutual. This Tarvek Sturmvoraus might be only a child of what, seven, but already he had a scheming look in his bright young eyes that Ed recognized. This was no spoiled young prince. This kid already knew betrayal and subterfuge. It had _shaped him._

Still, he needed to get Tarvek on his side if he wanted these boys to help him. Remembering how the older version had reacted when he did alchemy, he safely tucked away his letter.

He clapped.

Thankfully, his alchemy was just as present and bright as ever, and with a thought the manacles fell off and formed into a set of small metal tools. _Just what he needed._

Both boys gaped at him.

“What was that?” Gil rubbed his eyes. “Tarvek, did you see…?”

“Yes. That was quite a trick.” Tarvek was shaking ever so slightly. Gil probably didn’t notice, but Ed certainly did.

“It’s alchemy,” Ed said. He turned to Gil, who seemed the more amiable of the two. “D’you have a place I can work in peace for a bit? I’ll let you both watch.”

Gil bit his lip. “I don’t know how you did that, but if you’re really in Breakthrough, we should probably take you to one of the secure student labs that the Baron built.”

Tarvek huffed. “It’s the middle of the night, Gil. Von Pinn is going to kill us. We’re supposed to be in bed. How are we going to explain this?”

Gil grinned. “I have a feeling our new friend here can help us out with that, right Ed?”

The last thing Ed wanted was to babysit, but he didn’t know anything about this world other than what he’d experienced in the last day or so. How long ago had it been since he arrived? He had to figure out what kind of technology he was dealing with, and then he had to _find Al and get home. If these kids could help him do that, then so be it._ “Don’t worry about anyone giving you trouble,” he said. “I’ve got loads of experience talking my way out of stuff. And when that doesn’t work, alchemy’s a good backup.”

Tarvek nodded at last. He gestured to Gil. “Lead the way.”

* * *

As the younger boys led him through the strange tunnels, Ed learned a few things from his guides.

He was in Castle Wulfenbach (whatever that meant), and these children were two of several child prisoners (but treated like honored student guests). Gil was a foundling, and Tarvek was downplaying his royal heritage for some reason. Baron Wulfenbach was the name of the ruler over the land.

He was not prepared, however, when the two boys led him into a small lab with a window… that overlooked only clouds that sped past in the night sky. He ran to the window and looked down, expecting to see a mountaintop fortress or something.

The ground was much further away than he’d thought. “Oh,” he said, trying to hide his shock. “Did you realize your castle was flying?”

The boys exchanged another of their looks, showing that this had been a stupid question in their minds, and revealed how little he knew about this world.

“Who doesn’t know about Castle Wulfenbach?” Gil whispered.

“Better question,” Tarvek added in less-than-a-whisper, “Who doesn’t know about the _Baron_?”

Ed rolled his eyes. “I _told_ you I’m not from around here…” His gaze fell on the contents of the room at last. Tools like he had never seen before, even in Winry’s workshop! Raw materials of all sorts! A small forge! “Do you mind if I…”

Tarvek snorted. “Typical Spark behavior.”

“But I’m not a—“

Gil smacked him on the back. “You will be soon!”

There was a certain… vibrating behind his eyelids, like he was taking in what he was looking at with more depth, more fullness. It was a strange, exhilarating feeling. He wanted nothing more than to fiddle with things. His hands couldn’t sit still a moment longer.

“We’ll just guard the door,” Gil promised. Tarvek started to protest, but Ed didn’t hear them after that. He had to work.

* * *

Time didn’t matter. It could have stopped, for all he knew. His mind flooded with possibilities…

_“Brother!”_

Al’s voice echoed in his mind, repeating endlessly. He had to find him. But how? Where in this world had he ended up? And in what time? Had he been dropped in an entirely different period in this world’s history? What would people make of a talking suit of armor? He’d seen strange machines and talking monsters in the future. Were such things common even now? Could Al hide in plain sight?

He still didn’t know if there were other alchemists in this world. Sturmvoraus and these boys had reacted strongly to it, but were there others who knew how to do alchemy? Perhaps hidden away, keeping their secrets to themselves?

And this phenomenon called Sparks was a troubling puzzle to him. It was almost as if… yes, could these Sparks be harnessing the same power that he used to do alchemy? If they could make devices to travel through time, like this device that had been strapped to him…

Time travel. Who would have thought? He only hoped that the homunculi would never gain such a power in his world. This device of Sturmvoraus’, however, was a masterpiece of engineering. Even damaged, it was a marvel. _If only Winry could see this._

If he could get at the inner workings to see how it turned back time, if he could just _understand…_

_“The device is tied to_ _my temporal essence,”_ Sturmvoraus had said. That would explain why he’d arrived near him in this time, even though he hadn’t been on an airship before. If he could harness that power and turn it to his own purposes, he might have a chance to find Al.

_“Brother!”_

_Where are you, Al? Or… when?_

His focus narrowed until his working hands were all that he could see or think about, and the rest of his thoughts and worries floated into the middle distance of his subconscious mind.

* * *

“Hey, mister! Ed? Are you… done?”

Ed stirred. He opened his eyes to find Gil leaning over him. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head on his arms at the worktable. His metal hand still clutched a tiny screwdriver.

He yawned, wincing at the awful crick in his neck. His limbs felt stiff, as if he’d run around the military training track a few too many times. “Ow,” he said, and cracked his shoulder. “Why’d you let me fall asleep?”

Gil opened and closed his mouth a few times. “We took turns sneaking out to watch you,” he said, as if that made any sense.

Ed looked over at the windows and started in surprise. It was day. And in fact, it looked to be late afternoon. His stomach growled, confirming that he hadn’t eaten in far too long. “What just… happened to me?”

Gil grinned at last and shook his metal hand vigorously. “Congratulations, mister, you survived Breakthrough without blowing anything up!”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t let me tell anyone about him being in here,” Tarvek said, coming up behind his friend. “He could have destroyed the whole castle.” Despite his chiding tone, his expression betrayed that even he was at least mildly impressed. “So, _Edward_ , what does it do?”

“What?”

Tarvek tapped his left fist, which was still closed around something. “That.”

Mystified, Ed slowly opened his hand. “My pocketwatch?” No, looking closer, he realized that his military-issued watch had been dramatically altered. It was much thicker now, and several small dials and colored diodes had been added around the circumference.

He popped open the cover and gazed in shock at what he had made while gripped with the throes of whatever the “Spark” was. He’d somehow combined aspects of the time travel device with the existing workings of the pocketwatch, and yet it was somehow _more_ than that as well. He gazed at the tiny gears and counters that he’d added. He poked at the unlit diodes. It was familiar to him in a way nothing else in this world had been up to this point. He’d _created_ it.

Old Sturmvoraus’ tinkering with time ultimately hadn’t worked. There was no Agatha Heterodyne here, when he’d been sent. The only conclusion was that something had gone wrong and he’d ended up going too far back.

So he’d go looking for Al in this world on his own terms. If he came across that Heterodyne person, he’d deliver the letter, of course, but that was not his first priority. Though the image of desperate Sturmvoraus taking the shot for him nagged at his mind. He owed the bastard to at least _try_ to save this timeline. _Dammit_.

Before he could do any of that, however, he absolutely needed to learn more about the rules and science of this world.

He became especially aware of the two boys hovering over his shoulder to get a look at his new little invention. He snapped the device closed again and clipped the chain back to his belt. He tucked it out of sight in his pocket.

Both boys looked disappointed.

“So,” he said, stretching as he got to his feet. “Do you have a library around here?”

Tarvek snorted. “First, you’re going to come with us to eat something. You are practically about ready to fall over. You’re going to have to learn to control that Spark tendency a little. You have to eat, you know.”

_“_ Sure, Your Majesty,” Ed said, grinning widely when Tarvek flinched at the teasing title. Gil glanced suspiciously between them, but Ed didn’t elaborate. “All right, take me to the food.”

Learning about this strange new world and finding Al (and Agatha) could wait. After all, if his pocketwatch device worked, he now had all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm considering this part complete, though I may add onto the series in the future to explore what Ed does with his new time device in this world. :3 Let me know what you think, and thanks so much for reading!


End file.
